


Wishes

by cloudwisp



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And of course Marco, Fluff, I think you can guess what's gonna happen, M/M, Marco is in the military and isn't home for Jean's birthday, Right?, There's a lot of character mentions but it's mainly Jean and Sasha, This is hella fluffy though, oh no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:52:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1735238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudwisp/pseuds/cloudwisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let's just say, wishes do come true when the right strings are pulled in advance," Levi said.</p><p>Jean makes a wish as he blows out the candles on his birthday cake. What else would he wish for other than for Marco to come home from his current tour of duty?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry, it's cheesy and i'm awful.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Jean dragged himself to the door of his apartment. Why would anyone be over this early in the morning? The impatient knocking just kept coming as he shuffled down the hall, his socked feet dragging over the carpet sluggishly. 

“I’m coming,” he called, his voice scratchy after having just woken up – eleven o’ clock on a Saturday, really. Maybe whoever was knocking would hear and shut the fuck up (they didn’t).

Jean opened the door and was attacked by a body. “Gah!”

The reddish brown locks falling in his face and the feminine screeching in his ear lead him to conclusion that the visitor was Sasha. She squeezed him until he was in danger of suffocating before letting go. With his upper arms in her hands and a grin stretching from ear to ear she greeted him, “Hello! Happy Birthday, Fucker!”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. My Birthday,” Jean muttered to himself with a frown. He’d completely forgotten.

Sasha’s smile faltered a little and became a tad sad. “I assumed you’d say that. That’s why I’m here. We need to set up before the others get here.”

“Ugh. I don’t want them here,” Jean replied. He looked down at his feet. “I just… I just want Marco.”

Marco was away. He had left last year and he hadn’t been home yet. The Army needed him but so did Jean and if he sounded like a sulky child he really didn’t give a shit. Marco hadn’t sent a letter for a few weeks and Jean had become constantly agitated and grumpy – side effects of being anxious all the time and losing hours of sleep. He just wanted a letter – a few words on a piece of fucking paper. He didn’t want a Birthday party or people in his shit-tip of a home. Even more than a letter he just wanted that freckled little shit home. 

“I know, Jean. I know.” 

Jean wanted to tell her that no, she didn’t know. But she did. Her fiancé, Connie, was in the military. They’d been together longer than Marco and himself so Sasha had actually been through what Jean was going through, more times than he had even. She did know, Sasha knew way more than him.

Sasha’s thumbs rubbed soothing circles on his arms and she let go with one hand to take his chin. She lifted his head so he looked at her; her eyes were wide and brown. They were like Marco’s. Her dark eyelashes framed them perfectly and the crinkles at the corners when she smiled were the same. But then again, the colour wasn’t like Marco’s – his brown was different. It sounds silly, brown is brown, right? But where Sasha’s eyes were the warm colour of whiskey, Marco’s were the darker shade of smooth chocolate. Jean’s chest ached and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head a little to dispel the thought.

“The first time they leave is the hardest, right?” she asked. All Jean did in answer was nod, feeling tears pricking the back of his eyes. “We can do this, yeah. It’s just a few people – stop being so grumpy.” 

She grabbed his cheeks and forced his lips into a smile, Jean winced. Sasha brought her hands away from his face and leaned up to kiss both his reddening cheeks in turn. Sasha picked up her discarded bags and pushed past Jean into the apartment. As he shut the door behind her he couldn’t help but smile, even though it was small, a smile was a smile.

Sasha hummed as she travelled down the hall and into the kitchen/dining room, turning in the doorway to tell Jean to get dressed while she made him coffee. Sasha had a thing for the hot chocolate Jean’s hot drink machine made and he could hear the happiness in her humming as she pressed the buttons to make the machine start working. 

As Jean was leaving his bedroom having put on a clean shirt, boxers and jeans he stopped. Hanging on the back of the door was Marco’s favourite cardigan. He ran his fingers over the wool and brought the fabric to his face, it still smelt like Marco. Jean had been very careful with wearing it – he knew if he wore it too much soon the smell would fade (and t-shirts weren’t quite the same to smell). He only wore the cardigan at times when he felt like he really needed to and Jean decided today was one of those times. He unhooked the dark grey, cable knit cardigan and pulled it on. He did up the big brown buttons and, encased in the scent of his boyfriend, he went to the kitchen.

Sasha pretended not to notice the cardigan as he sat across from her at the table, for which Jean was grateful. She was sipping carefully on her hot chocolate and twirling a finger in the hair falling from her ponytail. She watched him as he reached over and took his mug of black coffee, too hot to drink yet.

They sat there, just being in each other’s company for a bit before Sasha began chattering on about random things – her cat, her bakery, Jean’s messiness. They were on the subject of Connie’s eyebrows when Sasha finished her hot chocolate.

“Later, when he comes over, just look at them. They’re so weird and… and thin!” Sasha said, amidst her snorting.

“Sasha, I’m not gonna inspect your fiancé’s eyebrows,” Jean retorted.

“But they’re just so funny,” she insisted. 

“Whatever you say.”

Sasha looked at her mug with a frown before getting up from her chair. “Come on, up you get. We’ve got some tidying to do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jean muttered sarcastically as he pushed himself up and out of his chair.

They tidied until Sasha was satisfied and then they got to work with party food and decorations. 

“I’ll do the mini sausage rolls and cocktail sausages. You get to work on putting those crisps into bowls,” the woman instructed. 

Jean got to work on the crisps, metal clattering against metal sounding in the background as she searched for the right baking trays. When she finally got them out of the cupboard and onto the work top she looked extremely relieved.

“Do you have any sort of order to this house hold, Jean?” she inquired with one eyebrow raised.

“Marco does. When he comes home he’ll spend days setting things back to how they were,” Jean says with a faint smirk. He could imagine Marco flitting around their home organising and muttering to himself about Jean’s lack of organisation.

“And I’ll help him. Jesus. I don’t know how you manage to live like this,” she huffs.

A bit more clattering later Sasha had sorted all the things that needed to be cooked and was helping Jean make sandwiches.

“Sasha, we’re all adults. I don’t think we need our sandwiches cut into little triangles,” Jean commented as she organised the shapes onto plates according to the filling.

“But it’s so cute!” Sasha picked one up between her thumb and forefinger and shoved it in his face. “Look how tiny it is! Open!” she practically sang.

He complied because he wasn’t going to win this fight. She placed the triangle in his mouth and he ate it. “See, they’re convenient too. Bite-size!”

“Fine. Cut them into fucking triangles if it makes you happy,” he relented.

“It really does, asshole.” Jean rolled his eyes as she laughed.

When the sandwiches were done Jean’s table was covered in plates full to the brim with sandwiches, tiny sausages and sausage rolls, impressive looking cupcakes made by Sasha. 

Bowls of crisps sat on the coffee table in the living room and bottles of wine and soft drinks lined the kitchen counter.

The decorations were the last things to be produced from the bags Sasha had brought with her. There were a few banners that they pinned over a couple of doors in the apartment, the one hanging in the toilet doorframe that declared ‘Let’s throw a party!!’ made the woman giggle. She also had some sparkly confetti stuff that Sasha sprinkled onto the plates of cupcakes and onto the coffee table.

“There! We’re done, just in time too!” Sasha stated, pointing to the clock. The time read two o’ clock – people should be arriving soon.

It was ten past when the first knock came. It was Armin.

And so people arrived and there was lots of standing around, talking and laughing. Eating food and slowly getting drunk on wine and the beer Reiner had brought with him. A typical party, no different from any other he and his friend’s would throw. Jean even found himself getting caught up in the excitement of his friends and almost forgot the reason for his earlier sadness. Almost.

It was getting kind of late when Sasha finally brought out the cake Jean had seen Connie not-so-sneakily sneak in the door as he arrived. Jean rolled his eyes as it was placed on the table in front of him and he realised what it was shaped as – a fucking horse. Yup, Sasha had made him a cake in the shape of a motherfucking horse. What a bitch. Despite his glare that he levelled a Sasha he was trying so hard not to burst out laughing. 

"You're lucky I kind of like you," he teased, now letting his grin spread across his face.

"Aw," she trilled, "You're so sweet!"

He stuck out his tongue in a childish manner and she flipped him the finger.

"Just hurry and blow out your candles, Horseface," Eren called from the other side of the room.

"Shut up, Jaeger," Jean retorted, "It's my birthday. I can do what I like."

"The dude has a point, Jeanny," Ymir commented. "The candle wax is gonna ruin Sasha's creation."

Historia nodded enthusiastically at her side.

"Okay, okay," the man relented. He just just getting ready to blow out the candles adorning the cake when Connie's voice stopped him.

"We didn't sing 'Happy Birthday'!" the tanned man stated.

Sasha gasped. "No, we didn't! Come on guys. One, two, three."

On her cue the whole room erupted into noise as Jean's friends 'sung' (see: screeched) the familiar song. Jean swore they held the last note of the song for at least a minute - well, maybe he was exaggerating a little but you get the idea.

"Can I blow now?" Jean asked finally with a roll of his eyes.

Eren snickered, "Bet that's what he'll be asking Marco when he gets home."

The remark kinda hurt but Jean tried not to let it show. He did smirk a lot when Levi swiped Eren's head and sent him a glare - Eren quit pulling that shit eating grin immediately.

"Go, go, go," Armin encouraged with a grin. Mikasa's smile from beside the blonde was almost as wide.

"Don't forget to make a wish," the dark-haired woman reminded him.

Finally Jean took a deep breath and blew the candles out. As he exhaled the only thought on his mind was Marco - that was the only wish that made sense to him. He wanted Marco home, safe and sound. He wanted to be wrapped up in his lover's arms, not just his cardigan. He wanted Marco to wake him up with sleepy kisses in the mornings, not Sasha's banging at his door 'cause she's worried for his health. Jean just needed his Marco to come back to him.

He opened his eyes to his friends all cheering. Jeez, all he did was blow out a few candles.

Jean looked around at his friend's faces, he didn't know what but something was going on... Something awful was being planned against him, he knew it. Why else would they all be displaying such shit eating grins? Even Historia looked at him with a devious glint in her bright blue eyes.

"What the hell are you all grinning about?" Jean voiced his concerns.

"Let's just say, wishes do come true when the right strings are pulled in advance," Levi said, his voice not as flat and drawling as it usually was.

"W-what? I'm hella confused," the dark-blonde admitted.

"Let's just say, my position in the military allows me some control over goings on," the short man replied with a shrug.

Jean didn't want to get his hopes up... but was Levi really implying what Jean thought he was? The man knew that Levi would be able to pull something like that off, easily so, but... "Stop being so cryptic, man, what do you mean?"

Suddenly everyone in the room grew silent and Jean felt arms wrapping around his chest from behind him. That smell, oh the gods, that smell. He felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes and he squeezed them shut.

"He means, he managed to get me home," came the soft voice in his ear.

That was it, Jean let his sob rip from his chest as he stood from his chair and turned in his lover's hold. Jean wrapped his arms around Marco as tight as he could, as if holding on not hard enough would mean Marco leaving again.

Marco's hand moved in slow circles over Jean's back and his sobs subsided after a while. The shorter of the couple pulled back and took in Marco's freckled face, complete with those wide brown eyes. Tears clung to the other's dark eyelashes and Jean raised a hand to wipe them away. 

Jean licked his lips and leaned up, kissing Marco gently on his tanned forehead. He watched as Marco's eyelids fluttered down over his eyes, the lashes resting on those perfect freckled cheeks. The blonde slowly moved over Marco's face, kissing everywhere, the touches soft and quick. Marco's skin was soft and warm with a blush under his lips as he covered him in little pecks.Then finally he came to Marco's mouth where Jean placed a gentle kiss at each corner before capturing Marco's lips in their first proper kiss in about a year. It was so good, butterflies erupted in Jean's stomach at the feeling. His lips, Marco's lips, the scratchy feeling of Marco's slight stubble. It was all just perfect.

"Holy shit, you're home," Jean whispered after he'd pulled away. "I've missed you so goddamn much."

Marco smiled, it was so fucking great to see that gentle curve of his lips once again. "I've missed you too. But I'm home now, Sweetheart."

"Say it again," Jean demanded, his hands cupping Marco's face. "I still don't think I believe it."

Marco chuckled and complied, "I'm home now, Sweetheart."

"Fucking good," the blonde stated. "You're not leaving for a long time if I have anything to do with it."

"Okay," Marco sighed. He pressed his forehead to Jean's. "That sounds good to me."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! ~*


End file.
